


The Convention - The "Orgy” (Day 2: Cuddling Somewhere)

by drownedinblissfulconfusion (tundraeternal)



Series: The Convention [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Convention, Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-13 23:18:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tundraeternal/pseuds/drownedinblissfulconfusion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>30-Day OTP Challenge</p><p>A succession of Cockles ficlets, set at a fictional convention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Convention - The "Orgy” (Day 2: Cuddling Somewhere)

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I do not personally know any of the people I'm writing about. As far as I'm concerned, these are fictional characters in some alternate universe, which exists someplace between our own and the French Drop universe, who happen to bear superficial resemblance to our boys (and girls). Their conversations, personalities, and innermost thoughts are generally extrapolated from plausible reality, occasionally made up from whole cloth.

It isn’t that Jensen thinks because he’s a headliner on the show it puts him above the others. Of course not. And it’s not that he doesn’t know how to make friends. He has lots of friends! On a normal day, he considers these guys his friends. But he just doesn’t seem to slide as easily into this crazy, drunken, debauched dynamic as the others do. He wishes Jared could’ve made it to this con. Jared has the knack of effortlessly bridging the gaps between any group of people, regardless of social disparities. As it is, Jared is home, attending Gen’s cousin’s first communion or some random thing like that. And so Jensen is sitting on the outskirts of the raucous conversations, sipping a beer and trying to keep his expression from slipping out of ‘benign and friendly smile’ into ‘slightly bemused confusion’. 

He thinks he’s doing well at looking engaged without actually being engaged, when the couch sags next to him and Ty throws an arm around his shoulder. 

“What’s up, dude? You look like a virgin at an orgy. You need another drink? They got the good stuff.”

“Nah, man, I’m good. Just chilling, you know? Been a long day.”

“I hear that, I hear that. You let me know if you need anything though, ‘kay? I got your back.”

“Thanks, Ty, I appreciate it.” 

Jensen smiles and shakes his head, watching as Ty weaves his way across the room to where someone’s set up an iPod dock. The music cranks up, and Ty takes off his shirt, swinging it over his head as he grinds against one of the bar stools. Jensen’s willing to bet Ty’s already forgotten they just had a conversation. Beside him, Matt, Rob, and Felicia appear to be demonstrating to Osric the best way to do shots hands-free, with varied results and many spills. The process is further hindered by Rich, who seems to be humping Matt’s leg. Jensen can’t help but laugh. Typical Friday night for those guys. Chad is doing some odd sort of trance-style dancing while staring unseeingly at Ty, and over in a dark corner, Samantha and Rick are having a heated conversation. Or were. When Jensen gives them a second glance, it looks like it’s the kind of conversation that involves lips and tongues in a non-verbal sort of way. 

The thought of lips makes Jensen realize he hasn’t seen Misha in a while (and he is definitely not going to analyze why his brain made that particular connection). Last time Jensen had taken notice, Misha and Sebastian had been giggling like schoolgirls, probably plotting mayhem, over their tropical and syrupy looking drinks. Now the drinks are half empty, abandoned on the table, and the Troublemint Twins are nowhere to be seen. 

Jensen leans his head back against the couch, desperately hoping that Misha’s not about to start a prank war, with a smoldering stare and an open-mouthed kiss on the hand in front of 1,000 fans being prank number one. The memory of it has Jensen catching his breath. If that was a prank, he is actually going to kill Misha. But then, if it wasn’t a prank, he has no idea what he’s going to do. Maybe he could use a stiffer drink after all. 

Up at the bar, he orders a bourbon, as recommended by Ty. He turns to go back to his seat, but Rich and Felicia refuse to let him leave again until he’s done a shot, and then three. He finally slips out from under Rich’s drunken embrace, vision blurring a little, and heads back to his corner. Against what he suspects may be his better judgement, he takes his bourbon with him. It’s already been poured, after all. No use letting it go to waste. He’s barely had a chance to flop back onto the couch when Sebastian looms up in front of him, carrying Misha like he’s crossing the threshold of their bridal suite. Before Jensen’s had a chance to do anything other than open his mouth, both of them are lying on top of him. 

“Seb, what the fuck. Are you naked?”

“Of course not. I’m wearing trousers.” 

“Thank god for that. Why are you sitting on me?”

“Not his fault,” defends Misha from somewhere under Jensen’s left elbow. He gestures with the arm he’s not lying on and nearly hits Sebastian in the face. “I dared him.”

“You dared him to pick you up and then fall on me?”

“Yes.” Misha sounds half asleep.

“What?” Jensen wonders if the lurid-colored drinks may have been spiked with something other than alcohol. 

“No,” explains Sebastian, who’s more or less upright beside Jensen now, Misha still spilled across their laps. “He had the audacity to infer that the alcohol might have impaired my strength. Which is ridilicous. Ridid- rid- absurd.” 

“So it just impaired your balance then.” Jensen has the strangest sensation that Misha has hiked up his t-shirt and is breathing onto his hip. It’s very distracting. 

“Balance. Exactly. What?” 

“You’re very comfortable,” Misha interjects before Sebastian can decide if he’s been insulted. 

“Bullshit,” states Sebastian, “I’m not comfortable at all. Your knees are bony and they're digging into my most important organs. And I’m thirsty after all this exercise.” He slithers out, eel-like, from beneath Misha’s legs, and climbs over the back of the couch, heading for the bar. 

Misha, on the other hand, shows no signs of moving. 

"Misha? You awake down there?" Evidence points to yes as Misha pushes his nose against the soft spot below Jensen’s ribs, making him jump. 

“Stop moving.” Misha throws his free arm across Jensen’s hips, curling his body around Jensen’s lap. 

It’s almost like cuddling with a large, affectionate dog, Jensen thinks vaguely. He downs the rest of his drink, and gives in to the moment, letting his arms fall to rest on Misha’s back. Absently he begins to stroke a hand across the soft fabric of Misha’s shirt, running his nails lightly up and down Misha's shoulder blades. Misha makes a soft, satisfied noise and nuzzles his face against Jensen’s skin. It’s... nice. Comfortable. And when Misha’s forearm presses against Jensen’s crotch and it feels a little bit more than nice, well, he’s had a lot to drink. He can't be held responsible for his body’s natural urges. He worries for a minute that he's taking advantage of his friend's less-than-coherent state, enjoying him this way. But then, he wonders, who's really taking advantage of who, here? 

"You started it," he mutters softly. But he can't bring himself to mind the warm weight on his lap. 

His brain is feeling heavy and his eyelids are drooping. He wasn't lying when he told Ty it had been a long day. He'll just sit and enjoy this for ten minutes, he tells himself, and then head up to bed. 

* * * * * 

An hour later, Felicia and Osric stumble past on their way upstairs. Felicia stops and tugs on Osric's arm, gestures towards the two men on the couch, sweetly sleeping in a tangle of limbs. 

"Hey, you think we should wake them up? Jensen's gonna have a hell of a crick in his neck if he stays all night with his head like that."

"They'd never forgive us if we did. Look at them; they're so happy." They watch as Jensen sighs in his sleep and smiles, tightens his arm around Misha's back. 

Felicia chuckles. "Awww. Twenty bucks says if I ask Jensen tomorrow what he dreamed about, he'll turn bright red and forget how to talk." 

"I'm not taking that sucker bet." Osric gives her a wicked grin. "But you should do it anyway. I'm out, I'll see you in the morning."

Felicia pulls her phone out of her pocket and sneaks a quick photo. It's not a good one, given the low lighting, and she doesn't want to risk her flash. But it's good enough; she's got the moment recorded. Just in case. She ruffles Jensen's hair and heads off to bed.


End file.
